Wednesday, July 30, 2008

I just though today was a good day to post this, since I've had to do research on Changelings (Fairy children, switched for human children) in Scandinavia.Enjoy!The Stolen ChildW.B. Yeats

Where dips the rocky highlandOf Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy islandWhere flapping herons wakeThe drowsy water-rats; There we've hid out faery vats, Full of berriesAnd the reddest stolen cherries. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wildWith a faery hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glossesThe dim grey sands with light, Far off by furthest RossesWe foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances, Mingling hands and mingling glancesTill the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leapAnd chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troublesAnd is anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters of the wildWith a faery hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushesFrom the hills above Glen-Car, In pools among the rushesThat scarce could bathe a star, We seek for slumbering troutAnd whispering in their earsGive them unquiet dreams; Leaning softly outFrom ferns that drop their tearsOver the young streams. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wildWith a faery hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going, The solemn-eyed: He'll hear no more the lowingOf the calves on the warm hillsideOr the kettle on the hobSing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bobRound and round the oatmeal-chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wildWith a faery hand in hand,From a world more full of weeping than he can understand.

Friday, July 25, 2008

...and loves making fun of it, they should watch THIS video.*Note: there's a little bit of language and slight gore at the end, and Zac Effron is mocked mercilessly, so if you like him...I wouldn't recommend it to you.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Right now I'm in a terrible process--frantically deciding what I should major in for college. I understand that for the next two years (because of Gen Ed requirements) I won't really need to know what my major(s) is (or are). But I want to know. I don't want to be one of those people aimlessly wandering around campus (figuratively)who don't really know what they're going to do. The University that I am going to is one of the few in Texas with a Creative Writing major and minor. I chose it for this reason (among others). So I know I want to do something with that. But I've also wondered about being an art therapist--a psychotherapist who helps troubled, traumatized, or mentally ill patients express their emotions through images, word-pictures, and other artistic ways. But the thing is--I know my writing will suffer. It's most likely draining and involved work--and I'd barely make my fifteen minutes a day!

Whoah! This is possibly the most serious post I've written--but I needed to get it out! Now I don't feel the to bang my head up against the wall and mutter *angst* *angst* *angst*.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Rules: List the things you love about summer for each of the five senses and tag five people at the end. Simple!

Taste: the nutmeg-sweet taste of spikooke (spice cake--and I'm sure I'm not spelling it right!) in Amsterdam, glorious cream puffs in the French countryside, bitter dark chocolate with tart raspberry jam, fresh warm bread anywhere in Europe (but especially in France), and excellent queso and homemade tortillas here at home

Touch: the burning Texas sun pouring down on my skin at 10 in the morning; my fingers poised lightly, tentatively on the keys of my laptop before working on my novel, the fire-hot touch of my steering wheel of my car having been at the campus parking lot for an hour or more while I'm in class

Sight: the Belgian countryside--with red bricked roofs of distant villages nestled in the lush forestry miles off of the highway; rows and rows of spinning windmills in The Hague, the Notre Dame, all the colors of spray-in haircolor at Sally Hansen's while me and my friend decide whether to color our hair blue, green, pink, or purple (I went with pink--next time I'll go with purple).

Smell: the fruity smell of a mango bubbletea on Chinastreet in Amsterdam, the smell of fresh-baked bread in France, the fresh, sweet smell of strawberries

Auditory: hearing swear words in Dutch, Flemmish, and French (occasionally even in Spanish!), hearing all the Brit and Australian accents from the many tourists in Amsterdam, hearing Coldplay's awesome new CD, hearing the click-click of my keys as I type

Sunday, July 13, 2008

"The Bagginses had lived in the neighborhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected....This is a story of how a Baggins had an adventure, and he found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected."

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Okay, so I know I'm a day late--but I still thought I'd post that. Anyway--I'm currently rereading a childhood favorite of mine: The Hobbit.Isn't it strange that a book I enjoyed at eleven is still enjoyable to me today, when I'm nineteen? (It's the same thing with Ella Enchanted.) Strange and wonderful.I've heard rumors of The Hobbit becoming a movie and directed by Peter Jackson (as with LOTR). Has anyone heard anything else on that front?Sorry for such a short post!~Sookie

About Me

My favorite thing in the world is to read a book. I also enjoy writing, graphic design, and all media and forms of art. I'm also addicted to starbucks coffee (well, who isn't) and have my heart set on traveling the world.